


The Day of Doom

by xikra1648



Series: Too Many Ideas, Not Enough Notebooks [2]
Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Background Drama, Cliche, F/M, No warnings really fit, Pre-written reader description, Romance, She's biologically related to canon characters, So there's a reason, most characters only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 23:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21127346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xikra1648/pseuds/xikra1648
Summary: Being a superhero didn't feel wrong, it just hadn't been something you'd ever really thought about until you didn't have a choice.  It felt right, though, even if it was exhausting at times.  So, when it got too much, you and Dick took a day or two to just breath, to take a step away and be people instead of heroes.It was on one of these days Dick felt more doomed than ever before.





	The Day of Doom

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely in the Young Justice TV show universe, but with an altered timeline, and Wally doesn’t die at the end of season 2. At least that’s what it would be if this ends up turning into a thing. So far, it’s just this bit.

# The Day Of Doom

### Too Many Ideas, Not Enough Notebooks Series

You’d been one of the first to go missing, a large reason why the Justice League and team even noticed the covert mass-kidnappings across the country. Kids nearing or in some stage of puberty, generally teenagers, all taken and never heard from again. Every single one of you given powers by something that activated the _meta-gene_ – a genetic marker only a fraction of the human population had and caused unpredictable mutations when activated. That was assuming the subject _survived_ the transformation process in the first place. Some kids went through physical mutations, others seemed entirely normal from the outside, and almost all of you suffered some sort of side-effect that made the situation that much harder. Your own powers were _wildly_ exhausting, and could even cause blinding migraines depending on how you used them. That wasn’t even counting on the whole _control_ issue, or the reactions to your abilities that outside parties – namely _Dr. Fate _– that created a multitude of different issues.

Being a hero wasn’t exactly something you’d ever considered. That was your brother’s thing, ever since he replicated the experiment that gave Barry his powers. Even if Wally had nearly burned down the garage in the process. You weren’t _opposed_ to the idea, but you’d never really thought about it. For starters, you’d only been thirteen at the time you got your powers.

That all changed when you were put in a situation where you and a _bunch_ of other kids needed a hero, and there was no guarantee the heroes even knew where to find you. So, you stepped up, you became the hero that you all needed, even if it was hard and terrified you. At 13 years old you were younger than most of the other kids that had been taken, and to top things off your abilities continued to grow as you kept pushing your limits and training.

What was once _thought_ to be telepathic and telekinetic abilities turned out to be far more _mystic_ in nature, something you should have figured out by the airy wisps of violet that permeated everything you did with your powers, even forming barriers or shields on command or danced over wounds you were healing. You put Dr. Fate on edge, and your scientifically-minded brother eventually struggled to understand your powers himself. He kept trying to, even after he and Artemis hung up their suits and moved to Arizona, while Kaldur’s departure for a long-term undercover mission shifted the team’s leadership. Dick was swiftly put in charge, it had been a given that he’d end up leading the team even back when it was formed, and you’d inadvertently ended up his second-in-command – his _partner._

It was exhausting, something the two of you wanted less and less as you got older, certainly something neither of you would actively seek out, but you were also the people everyone _wanted_ on the job. For the time being, it had to be done. So, the two of you picked up the roles of – as you referred to them privately – _Team Dad_ and _Team Mom._ It certainly helped that you could have private psychic conversations, even cut off from a psychic link M’Gann normally set up with whatever team she was working with.

With all the chaos going on between her and Conner, it was best to leave the two of them _out_ of the loop in regard to Kaldur’s time deep undercover. They weren’t exactly the best actors, Conner in particular was pretty bad at it, and you honestly weren’t sure where M’Gann stood on a moral ground. Your own trust in her began to wane when Batman called you to the Watchtower to look into the mind of an uncooperative criminal M’Gann had _‘interrogated.’_

On one hand, you loved her, she was one of your best friends. On the other, you were the one healing the victims whose minds she’d _ripped_ away, leaving them in a state like skin with no bones or organs inside. You wanted to trust her, and you knew you had to talk to her about her borderline abuse of her abilities, but you had to be careful. They were a touchy subject, partially because they were a result of being a White Martian, a persecuted minority on her home planet, and partially because growing up she’d been expected to be a symbol of change, the key to a revolution because she was so much stronger.

You hadn’t even told Dick about it yet, waiting until you could talk with Zatanna about it. She was always a good sounding board, listening and waiting to share a nugget of wisdom from a perspective you hadn’t even considered. Traits she would have had even if she didn’t blame herself for what happened to her father.

Thankfully, there were times you and Dick could find some peace. Hand things over to Mal, the team’s _Den Mother_, for a day or holiday weekend while you and Dick dealt with your lives outside the cave and the team. That had been the case on the day in question – _The D.o.D._ as Dick referred to it, short for _Day of Doom_. The two of you were just doing _people things_ for the day, to the point of taking a Zeta Tube to Central City for the day before the inevitably chaotic dinner at your parent’s house. Things had only gotten _more_ chaotic after Bart landed into the family from the _future_.

Dick wasn’t late, you’d just arrived early to read at the park, and you’d been sitting on that bench for a _while_ by the time he arrived. Curled up, sitting sideways with your head resting on the arm you’d draped over the back of the bench, entirely focused on the book you held still on your lap with one hand. Your long ginger waves were draped over the back of the bench, deep brown eyes focused on nothing but the pages in front of you, pale cheeks dusted red from the slight chill, and freckles popping against the blush of your cheeks. You were completely absorbed in your book, your body right there while your mind was in an utterly different world, so completely taken by the art form like you’d been when you listened to music making New Year’s dinner for the team members that lived in the cave.

He stood back for a bit, dressed in civvies without even a pair of sunglasses to hide behind as there was no need, hands in his pockets with his blue eyes gazing as an uneven smile gently grew onto his face, a lifetime of training vanishing as he ignored everything around him to focus entirely on you.

And then, with the scratch of a record, his head reached a screeching halt before crashing like a car into a brick wall.

He was in love with his best friend’s little sister.


End file.
